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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836524">The Pleasure, The Privilege</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinearA/pseuds/LinearA'>LinearA</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, GNC Ben Solo, Reylo Jukebox Exchange, Trans Rey (Star Wars), references to the abuse of young adults, reylojukeboxexchange</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:15:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836524</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinearA/pseuds/LinearA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble, for the Reylo Jukebox Exchange.  For the prompt, "There Is A Light That Never Goes Out," by the Smiths.  Ben has a car, and Rey's not going back home.  Alternate title: Shoplifters of the World, Unite.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Queerly Beloved Reylo Fics, Reylo Hidden Gems, Reylo Jukebox Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Pleasure, The Privilege</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/flavialikestodraw/gifts">flavialikestodraw</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Morrissey is a racist shithead, but I believe we can look that in the face and repudiate it without depriving ourselves of music which has meant so much to so many people, especially young queer people.  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfCFxA6Jvj8">The song is here</a>, if you're not already familiar.</p><p>This story is a gift to prompter <a href="https://twitter.com/Flavialikestod1">Flavialikestodraw</a>!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Get in the car,” Ben says.</p><p>Rey doesn’t.  She stands in the street smearing tears across her face with the back of her hand; he can see them shine under the warm glow of the streetlight.  “I can’t,” she says.  “I can’t.”</p><p>Ben knows she can get in his car.  She’s done it before.  And he can tell you the date and the weather and the song that was playing at the time.  “Can’t what?” he asks.</p><p>“Go home.  Go back there.”  Her voice breaks, a gulping sob.  “I can’t.”</p><p>“Then don’t.  Get in, Rey.”</p><p>The instant he says her name, she does, which tells him a lot.  And makes him angry.  Her eyes are filling with fresh tears as she tucks her long bare legs into his shitty car.  He turns the A/C down, in case she’s cold, and gestures vaguely at the stack of paper napkin jammed in under the parking brake.  She takes one and jabs at her eyes with it.</p><p>“Wrong name?” he asks, as gently as he can, his fists clenched on the wheel as he swivels back out onto the empty streets.  This stupid little town; nothing’s ever happening.  He wishes he had a better life he could invite her into.  Not the apartment.  Snoke is at the apartment, which is why he’s out driving aimlessly at 10PM in a town where the main drag is dark by 9.</p><p>“Not even that,” she says.  “I can live with that.  I can.  But he got into my room and he went through my stuff and he threw away everything.  Everything that was mine.  I was wearing these shorts; that’s the only reason he didn’t get them.”  They’re cutoffs, with a little patch that looks like a flower just above the hem, and she reaches down and rubs the patch.  “It was all cheap crap.  I didn’t even <i>like</i> all of it.  But it just – it took so much time.  To get it.  And I liked having it.  Opening the drawer and seeing – scarves and camisoles and lipstick and things.”</p><p>Ben nods, slowly.  Rey’s guardian isn’t really her guardian anymore, since she’s 18, but that makes it worse; Rey doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and she can’t even throw herself on the dubious mercy of CPS anymore, even though the ex-guardian is a known piece of shit.  Ben would dearly like to break that guy’s nose for him, but he’s aware that that’s not going to get Rey her stuff back.  He knows the stuff she means, too; he’s seen her wear it.  The last time she got in his car she had a little seafoam-blue scarf and a pale gray tank top.  When she’d hugged her knees her collar bone had stood out.  She’s so thin.  She has nothing.  It isn’t fair.</p><p>“Do you want to get more?” he asks.  He probably sounds abrupt.  Rey flinches.</p><p>“I mean I <i>want</i> to.  But I need money for juice and I haven’t budgeted – ”</p><p>“We can shoplift you lipstick from the drugstore.  As many as you want.  My dad showed me a trick.”  The drugstores will still be open.  He knows it’s not designer stuff or anything.  But she should ‘t have to get the cheapest crap on the shelves.</p><p>She gapes at him.  “Your dad showed you a trick for shoplifting makeup?”</p><p>He blushes, remembering the eyeliner, the mascara, the lipstain he's stolen, none of which were what his father had in mind when he’d demonstrated with candy bars and boxes of matches.  “Works to shoplift just about anything that fits in your pocket.”</p><p>The place is empty, so empty they can hear the lights hum, which makes it riskier, but he’s happy to risk it for her when she’s tripping after him with a smile like he’s showing her a card trick.  He leads her down the candy aisle first.  “Want a chocolate bar?” he asks, in a normal voice, and then lowers his tone, so only she can hear him.  “The trick is to keep them confused.  So they don’t know what you have.  Pick up five things, put four back.  And don’t stop there.”  He grabs a Milky Way, holding it loosely.  Maybe he should get a candy bar too.  She is thin.  So he picks up Skittles, M&amp;Ms, Snickers, Mars Bars, Crunch, Reeses Peanut Butter cups, so much candy his hands are full, and then he gives her Skittles and the M&amp;ms to hold, and puts the Crunch and the Mars Bars and the Milky Way and the peanut butter cups back, stopping to compare prices and pretend to read ingredients lists, and somewhere in all that confusion, the Snickers ends up in his pocket.</p><p>They work their way around the store, picking things up and putting them back.  When he picks up a pack of toilet cleanser tablets, she lifts an eyebrow.  “You know,” he says.  “For our toilet.  Back home.  It’s not an emergency, but you know how it gets.”  Her eyes widen, and he thinks he sees the trace of a smile, which is why he risks it, as he puts it back.  “Not if you think we shouldn’t.  Darling.”</p><p>And she plays along.  They argue over the stupidest, most frivolous household budget ever conceived of as he leads them inexorably towards the makeup aisle.  Rey picks up a shampoo bottle off the top shelf, something sleek and expensive; she gives him a shy smile, and it can’t possibly fit in his pocket, but  – “Is this what you use?” she asks slyly.  “I figure it must be something fancy.  To get your hair like <i>that.”</i></p><p>He touches his hair, self-conscious, and then she touches it too, and he freezes.  “N-no,” he stutters, as she tucks it behind his ear and smooths it over his shoulder.  “I use – you get it at the salon – ”</p><p>She drops her hand, and he immediately regrets talking at all, which is pretty standard for him.  He points her wordlessly to the Lancome display instead, and holds up a shade he thinks she might like, then one he knows she won’t, then one he thinks she might want to at least consider, then one he’d wear himself, rotating them from his hands to hers and back to the shelves the way his dad showed him, hesitating and re-taking, from brand to brand, like he just can’t make up his mind.  When his pockets are full of Soft Coral and Vixen Blush, he picks an eyeliner off the shelf, and Rey frowns.</p><p>“That’s very dark.”</p><p>“I like them dark,” he says, not meeting her eyes.  He lowers his voice.  “This is the topper.  You have to buy <i>something.”</i>  She leans in close to hear him, and her cheek and the shy edge of her naked smile are right there, so close.  “So I’m going to buy this, and a Milky Way, and on camera we’re just a pair of indecisive shoppers, and we go back out to the parking lot with $36 of free makeup and candy.”</p><p>And it is physically possible that when she turns her full face, the full dazzle of her smile, towards him, he could press his lips against hers, but he won’t do that, because he doesn’t know for sure that she wants him to.  And he could ask her, but she’s smiling.  And nothing that might make that smile flicker could ever be worth it, so he just smiles back at her, and keeps smiling, even though he sees the smile in the little mirror by the display and knows how crooked it looks.</p><p>“Are you sure this’ll work?” she asks him, half-whispering, still smiling.</p><p>“It’ll work out,” he promises her, and then after he’s paid and they’re back in his car and he’s turning out his pockets for her and she’s clutching every precious stolen thing close to her chest, he says, “There's always something we can make work out.”  She smiles, and not only does he know she believes him, he knows he believes it himself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My DMs are open on <a href="https://twitter.com/LinearAO3">Twitter</a> and <a href="https://linearla.tumblr.com/">Tumblr.</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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